Going Trick or Treating
by Mr. Wizard
Summary: I wonder what the kids are wearing this year?


Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

Going Trick or Treating

The decorations were all in place: yards of webbing draped old wooden furniture and provided a perch for large black spiders that looked out with flashing red eyes. A pair of double-headed axes was crossed above the doorway, one slightly more stained than the other. Just to the right of the front door a heavy table waited to be put into position. It supported a cast iron kettle; black with just the right amount of rust. Inside a candy bowl was suspended over three gallons of water. In the corner a Styrofoam box held cubes of dry ice, waiting their chance to turn the kettle into a smoky cauldron of sweets. Another smaller table had candied apples for the neighborhood children whose parents knew the treats were safe.

In the living room the parents sat on the couch. He was an impressive man, tall and broad shouldered, muscular but not sculpted. Keen blue eyes lit up a square-jawed face that clearly knew how to laugh. His slacks and tie looked about twenty years out of date. One large hand rested on the knee of the woman beside him.

She was beautiful. Even after three children her figure could stop traffic at the Go City Speedway. The skin was an echo of an earlier time; pale, almost translucent. Lustrous black hair spilled over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. Her chin stopped just short of being sharp; above it were full, sensuous lips and a nose that was just large enough, no larger. The most arresting feature of that lovely face was the eyes: pale green eyes that were genuine windows into a stormy soul. At the moment they twinkled with anticipation.

Jan Go turned and looked at his wife. "You got any idea what they're goin' as, Mag?"

"Not a clue." Magda Go shook her head. "When the other two heard that Hank was going to make his own costume, they insisted on doing their own, too they didn't even ask me for fabric." Her eyes could not hide the hurt. "And after all those silly superhero costumes I did for Hank. And don't forget Mike's outfit last year."

"How can I? The '68 Comeback Special! Whatever you made it out of looked like real leather! He won the contest for best costume for his class."

"But that's just not good enough, I guess." A hint of petulance seeped into her voice.

Jan moved his hand from her knee to where it covered hers. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "They're just growing up, that's all. This is Hank's last year trick-or-treating, and tonight's his first party. And you know how Mike and Sasha try to be like him in everything."

"Not everything." Magda corrected. "The only time Hank's principal ever called was when he stuck up for another kid on the playground. How many teachers' conferences have we had for Mike? And if I hear Mother Superior sigh one more time this year I'll…"

"Love your little girl anyway." He said softly as he wrapped Magda up in his arms. "She's a smart girl who won't take nothin' from nobody…a lot like her Mom."

Madga settle into his embrace. "Mom always said grandkids would be her revenge. Was I that bad?"

"Worse, I hear." They both chuckled at that. "Maybe," he whispered into her ear, "I should give you a good…"

Footsteps and voices interrupted them. They smiled at the eagerness in the voices. All too soon they heard them rise in heated disagreement.

"I go first. It was my idea!"

"No me! I've got the best costume!"

"No you don't, I do! Besides, girls always go first!"

Their mother hid her amusement from them. "All right that's enough! We don't have time to fight and go trick-or-treating, so unless you want to stay home and give out candy, you'll go by age. Oldest first."

The hallway quieted down. Jan and Magda could hear their children as they made last second adjustments. Hank cleared his voice. "Here I come!"

A tall, almost pudgy eleven-year-old tromped in. He wore an over sized t-shirt that reached past his knees, its borders now purple courtesy of a magic marker. He wore sweat pants under that and sandals on his feet. Over the t-shirt was a cuirass of copper colored construction paper. The old batting helmet he wore backwards was spray painted copper also. A plastic sword and scabbard was suspended from his left shoulder by a length of rope. In his left hand he held a cardboard shield. He drew the sword and held it aloft.

"I am Hannibal of Carthage!" Hank shouted grandly. "We studied about him last month in world history class. He was awesome! His army crossed the Alps and almost destroyed Rome. And he had elephants!"

Hank turned his shield to his parents. An elephant's face glared at them from its front.

"Very nice." Magda smiled. "What's that on your forehead, Hank?"

"What? Oh!" The boy flipped the eye patch down to cover his left eye. "I forgot, he had only one eye."

A voice called out from the hallway. "Okay, you're done playing loser, Hank?"

"Hannibal was not a loser!" The older boy replied heatedly.

"I read your history book. He lost, he's a loser."

Before Hank could re-fight the Second Punic War the parents intervened. Jan called out to the voice. "Mike, you're next."

Their second child stepped in. Each parent picked up on a different detail.

"Like the lab coat, you're a doctor?" Jan asked.

"Mike, what did you do to your hair?" Magda half-laughed, half-gasped.

Mike grabbed a bit of the wildness that rose from his head. "Just some teasing and a little jell. And I'm not a doctor."

"A mad scientist then?" Jan guessed.

"Not just any mad scientist…THE mad scientist! I'm…"

"Victor Von Frankenstein." Hank said tiredly.

"That's FrankenSTEIN, I'm Gene Wilder." Mike touched his fake mustache. "And Hank could have been the monster! We could have worn top hats and tails!"

Hank snorted. "Why would I want to be some dumb old monster when I could be one of history's greatest…"

"Losers?" Mike gibed. "I mean, come on, Hank, you're already big and dumb."

"Okay you two, cut it out." Daddy laid down the law.

"And now for our little girl." Magda called out to the doorway. "You were so cute last year as M'Lady Marigold from Picture Perfect Princess."

"I didn't pick that! The voice from the hallway was sharp. "Sophia Boogerheim made us pick that show for the costume contest at St. Ag's! We could have been the Power Patrol, but noooo, that wasn't sweet enough."

Her mother smiled at the tone. "You were beautiful. Now, let's see what you're going as this year."

Sasha Go walked through the doorway smiling. Hank and Mike snickered. Jan swallowed. Magda's eyes went as wide as dinner plates.

"H-Honey," the now paler woman asked, "who are you?"

"Don't you know, Mom?" The girl's green eyes registered confusion. "I forget, you didn't get to stay up as late as Daddy when you two were little. I'll show you."

Her right hand was in the purse hanging from her shoulder. It came out holding a cap gun modeled like a snub-nosed thirty eight. At the same time her left hand went to the back pocket of her very short shorts. Toy gun and homemade badge were pointed at her brothers.

"Sergeant Spice, Angel City PD, FREEZE, SCUM!" Their hands went up involuntarily. Mike lowered his first, slapping Hank's helmet off in the process. Hank hit him with his sword.

"Boys, stop it!" Jan's voice caused them to stop before they could pitch into each other. "That's better. Go get your bags and wait in the kitchen for your Mom." The boys took off, leaving Sasha with Mom and Daddy.

"What do you think, Daddy?" Sasha asked excitedly. "Don't I look just like Spice did in 'Red Light Blues'?"

"Just like her." Jan said quietly.

The little girl's black hair tossed as she faced her mother. "Don't worry, Mom, the shirt's okay. I just undid the buttons on the bottom and tied it up. And the pants were too short and the legs were already ripped anyway. I just made shorts out of them."

"And you did a very good job." Magda knelt beside Sasha, looking at her daughter's handiwork. "You even hemmed them. But, honey…"

"You don't like it, do you?" Sasha's shoulders slumped and her face fell.

"It's not that, honey. It's just…cold out there tonight. I tell you what: keep the shirt and gun and badge. Go put on your new pants and matching jacket I made for you. You can be Detective Cagey, I know you like her more than Detective Frilley."

"Yes, Mom!" The mollified daughter ran out of the room.

Jan's smile faded as Magda stood up and faced him, her fingertips drumming in front of her.

"'Ms. Cop'." She said softly. An eyebrow arched, her voice raised. "'Ms. Cop'." Now her brows furrowed as her hands went down to her sides and balled into fists. Somehow she did not shout.

"'MS. COP'!?" Green eyes blazed. "I'm surprised you didn't get her a cowboy hat…she could have been the girl street walker from 'Bus Operator'!" But that's okay…she's just a cop disguised as a street walker!"

The man who had last year received Go City's Award for Valor flinched at the woman standing before him.

"I know you record those old shows they run on 'Police Precinct' but I never thought you'd let her watch that one! When are you going to let her watch 'Bocca Bunco'?"

Jan was insulted. "I'd never let her watch that trash! Name one realistic thing in that show! They spend more on one episode than the real Bocca squad gets in a year. And those characters…bah! 'Rockit and Drubbs…'Schlockett' and 'Flubbs' is more like it. At least 'Ms. Cop' gets some things right."

Pale fists unclenched. Magda shook her head. "We aren't on the same page. I just…I just don't want our little girl walking around looking like a pin-up."

"No, no, I understand." Jan said earnestly. "I don't want her to go out like that either. I want her to be our little girl as long as possible. I woulda never thought she'd dress like that when we watched that show."

"You're a man, Jan. A good man, but you're still a man. You might not realize just how hard it is on girls these days. There are those voices out there telling girls that their only value comes from how much lust they can engender. And if they are less than perfect in any way…"

"Jan, as much as Sasha makes fun of Sophia Guggenheim, she's jealous of her. She sees the blond locks and tan skin and feels ugly."

"That doesn't make any sense." Jan puzzled. "How can she fell ugly when she looks like you?"

"It doesn't make any sense, I know. It's something you can't explain."

Her husband rose to his feet and put his arms around Magda. "I may not understand, but I want our girl to be happy. And you did a great job on getting her to change costumes. You might not believe it, Mag, but she looks up to you. She sees this self-assured woman, the woman who can do anything, and doesn't see how she'll ever measure up."

"Wait until she gets taller; I'll shrink soon enough." She gave her husband a little smile. "It's 5:30, I better get ready. If we don't hit the Carruthers' door at 6, there will be you-know-what to pay."

Once Magda left Jan went to the kitchen to check on the suspiciously quiet boys. After he made them throw away their water balloons (he let them throw them at the fence outside the window) he went to a drawer by the kitchen door. He pulled out a pair of paper clips. They bent easily.

He returned to the living room just as a little girl stepped in from the other side. She looked a little unsure in her new outfit.

"Detective, let me see your badge." She gave her father the piece of cardboard wrapped in foil. He carefully attached one to the back of her creation. Then he looped the other one on the back of the first. With a little adjustment it fit perfectly into the pocket on the outside of her jacket.

"There, now everyone knows you're a cop." Jan patted the badge as he smiled into Sasha's face. "You know, it's hard enough to buy a girl's jacket with a pocket on the outside like this. Your Mom didn't even have a pattern for it. This took some sewing."

"Yes, sir, I really like it. Do I look like Detective Cagey?"

"Exactly. Now go get your bag and wait with your brothers. I think I hear your Mom coming."

Footsteps stopped at the door after Sasha left. Jan's heart stumbled.

Magda stood, hands clasped before her waist. Her skirt reached down to her ankles. Boots peeked out from under the hem. The shirt was white with a laced front and sleeves that gathered at the wrists and expanded at the shoulders. An old cameo was at her collar. Her beautiful black hair was piled high upon her head. Pins secured the hat at a jaunty angle. The corner of her lip curled up. She had all the cool confidence of a Gibson Girl.

She walked over to her staring husband. "You can breathe now."

"Oh, I, ah…" Jan sputtered. "Here I was thinking you'd be a vampire or something. Wow."

Her eyes sparkled. "Haven't I bitten you enough already?" she moved a little closer and the scent hit him. Zanzibar! Not just the cologne, but the perfume. At sixty-five dollars an ounce, Magda carefully husbanded her supply. And she had worked it into her hair. Tomorrow was Saturday, and he had the day off also. The scent would last all night…

Gloved fingers lightly touched his chest. "I'll make you think you're twenty-one again, Blue Eyes."

Before he could blink she turned and primly walked away. "Come on, kids, we've got five minutes to make it to the Carruthers'."

Jan opened the front door. The great general of Carthage marched past, followed by the mad scientist and a gritty little detective. Behind them walked the epitome of elegance, who moved with the assurance of a woman in her prime. She stopped just long enough to blow him a kiss.

Jan stepped out and hurriedly lit the candle in the jack-o-lantern. A knot of costumed children stood on the side walk with their parents and watched him pull his table into the door. A pair of tongs went into the cooler and in moments the kettle was smoking. He adjusted his tie and put on the jacket and fedora hanging on the coat tree.

Jan handed out candy, pretended to be scared sometimes, and other times he was sincerely charmed. A few parents exchanged pleasantries. But all the while his mind was somewhere else.

He went because he had lost a bet. The winner wanted someone there with him so he would not appear desperate as he watched the leading lady of GCU's 'Sinatra Review'. Mike Hendricks was right; Nancy Harrison was a knock-out, but he could have her.

The song was 'It Was A Very Good Year' and it was brilliantly staged. The singer sang to a series of silhouettes. Each one cast a pretty shadow, but the City Girl at '21' caught his eye with the way she shook her hair. It took all of his rookie police skills and a bit of luck to deduce the correct name from the program.

Magda Pulaski.

And in another hour she'd be back with Mike and Sasha. He'd go pick up Hank at 9 and then try to have the kids in bed by ten. Then the rest of the night would be theirs. Between ghosts and witches he found himself humming.


End file.
